


Soldier + Scavenger

by Alice_Marie



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe - Canon, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Childhood, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Rey Needs A Hug, Young Armitage Hux, Young Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_Marie/pseuds/Alice_Marie
Summary: Even as a boy, Armitage Hux is not allowed his peace. The bastard son of the Commandant is expected to follow orders. Another cog in the machine... without feeling. Without hope...That is, perhaps, except for one.A little girl named Rey unknowingly waits for the First Order's wrath to seal her fate...If the words she's always heard in her dream were not 'I'll come back for you sweetheart...' But something else.If she'd already met her destiny...An alternate setting based in the (Pre-TFA) canon-verse.The story of Armitage Hux and Rey.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rey
Comments: 21
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

_"We have to get her out of here... They're taking the children!" Hushed whispers..._

_The little girl sighs softly, rolling over on her blankets. A slight breeze moves through the abandoned hull of a star destroyer - something that they use as a home, now. Days ago, it had been a hut. Before that? She can’t remember._

_Now, dark skeletal limbs of metal stretch over their heads. It's dark and often she hears them talking, when they think she's fallen asleep._

_"And you think Plutt is the answer? The man is a pig! He'll sell her the first inst-"_

_"It's our last chance... Unless your friend still has that shutt-"_

_"Rogg is gone." Sadness..._

_She can feel their fear, the weariness, sadness. She tucks her arm closer to her chest, a thumb between her lips as she squeezes her eyes closed._

_It's a childish gesture - one that her mother has scolded her about in the past. Still, it provides a measure of comfort. Their conversation continues and she curls more tightly in on herself._

_"So, we'll get her to Plutt before first light." There's a finality there. It means something. Something the little girl can feel but she doesn't understand. A small whimper escapes her. Her parents still themselves, listening - breaths caught._

_Then, a soft sigh - the soft clunk of well worn boots on deteriorating metal._

_"Rey..." Fingers in her hair, soothing. She peels an eye open - making out the vague shape of her mother's silhouette._

_"Mum...?" Fearful._

_"Try to sleep, my little sunbeam." Her father joins the shape - large shadows. They don't use their lights or candles after dark now... Haven't, for some days. Fleeing the sounds of shrieking bellows of the sky. Engines.... Ships... Metal birds in the sky..._

_They're hiding._

_The sky is beginning to brighten. A dusky violet. The skies are burning at dusk- the sunsets made scarlet. Smoke in the atmosphere..._

_Rey doesn't understand it now, but later she'll remember - the world - the villages... were burning._

_She's woken up - her father is already gathering their few possessions while her mother has her sat on her lap. The fear is palpable, it tastes bitter on her tongue. Rey fusses as her mother pulls her hair back. Three little buns. Father. Mother. Little Rey._

_They were still too far..._

_Niima Outpost is out of reach when the troopers have them pinned down - joining up with a few more families who had a similar thought..._

_Rey screams as white hard hands come to pluck her from her mother and father. She's lead to the group of other children. All she feels is fear - her own, a little, perhaps - but whatever she feels is drowned by the other shivering and crying children around her. She keeps looking back over the dune of sand they'd crossed. Her parents are just on the other side..._

_They had called to her - told her not to be afraid... They'll come get her..._

_It tasted of deceit, though she was yet to understand that particular concept._

_She feels something hard shoved into her back, a dull ache as she finds her knees - the other children around her cowering but she stares upward, eyes squinting as she tries to pull meaning and reason out of the situation. Who are these faceless people? What are they doing? Why are they here?!_

_~_

He swims through towering bodies. Thin legs that are anchored to the metal floors by heavy boots. Everything shines. But it's about to be coated in blood and sand, Armitage thinks. They are heading to a desert planet, one that his father has said the First Order is interested in. He is unsure why, except for what they intend to do next: a raid... the kidnapping of children.

"The First Order needs children..."

Those words, by now, are familiar to Armitage. They come from the stern lips of Fleet Admiral Rax. Armitage isn't sure why he is so adamant to recruit children as stormtroopers... since everyone believes Armitage, a child, to be filth... that is, until Brendol curtly explained it himself:

"Even desert spawn will be of better use than you..."

So Armitage alone is made of filth? It confuses him further, but he has learned that silence means safety. He is supposed to watch... as Rax has whispered a secret: that he will have to lead them one day. Armitage Hux must know where his own army came from, when he grows old enough to command them. A secret... because he knows if Brendol discovers it, then it is likely that Armitage will wake from sleep with two unrelenting hands around his skinny throat.

He feels ill... the heat can be felt even in the craft as they make the landing, and he hasn't eaten. The black uniform he wears is tight.

Another officer barks orders at the front of a crowd of white shells. Stormtroopers... to tear the children away and kill their parents. He swallows. He wants to hang back in the shadows, but Rax emphasised it to him: he must be seen. His gut churns as the door opens and he winces. It's too bright outside!

More orders bellowed... the stamping of feet, and Armitage moves out of their way, trying to stand straight, despite the will for his shoulders to hunch.

It's so hot! Armitage doesn't think he can imagine a feeling that's more hot! He stretches subtly in his stifling uniform. The screams are already a raucous melody, coupled with blaster fire. Too loud! Armitage tries to slink back, back to the wall of the ship...

A large hand closes over his small wrist, ripping him away from the shadows and out into the light. He blinks, his mouth dry as his lip trembles. Everywhere! There's so much pain!

When the First Order arrives, it is as nothing like they have on other planets. Jakku is a graveyard of broken pieces of the Empire. 

Wreckage and scavenger scum. Peasants, poverty and waste. Hardly a glamorous post. Returning to it gives Rax a sense of irritation. Back to the sun, the sand... A familiarity he wishes he did not have. 

Now, of course, he returns in a position of privilege instead of his years serving here as little more than a glorified slave or guard as a youth. He strides from the ship - Brendol and that bastard child in his wake. He gives his commands, first for defense - the denizens of Jakku are less than thrilled to see the return of anything that looks like military. So, they fight, of course. A wild bunch of renegades. It's disgraceful. Beastial and desperate and they do not even yet know what they are fighting for…

A blaster is pressed into Armitage’s hand. He closes his fingers weakly over the weapon.

"Time for the kill, now, boy!" A harsh shove forward. 

The young Armitage grunts softly at the contact, his father already shooting... men and women resisting! He sees even babies being torn by the leg away from a mother's arms. That same mother collapses...

A moment which is still and suddenly silences all else. Armitage only thinks of a limp hand.

Mother...

"MOVE IT!" A kick to the back of his leg. A blaster shot flies far too near...

Armitage stumbles but stays upright, hurrying. Where does his father want him to go?!

"Here!" Brendol points ahead of the young Armitage. A man is running forward. "Him! Shoot boy! SHOOT HIM!"

Armitage's pulse thrums in his ears, his heart rattling. A little cry as he attempts to fire, but it's Brendol who takes him down, with a shot straight to the face. Armitage feels his skin crawling, he can't breathe... can't breathe!! He hates this! He wants to run back inside! The sounds are deafening! He tries to turn back...

"Coward!" Brendol Hux hits him forward again.

The young Armitage grits his teeth.

It'll be over soon... he just has to think, it will be over soon... 

Early tears bud in his eyes. Just another sign of weakness.

The first steps are completed in a matter of a couple days. A foothold. Scouts have reported back the location of a few more villages and outposts to raid.

A hellish spill of blood across the sands becomes a flood. A generation snatched away, troop carriers come to collect children, even babies. Delivered to the hands of those will neither nurture or care for them.

Armitage is sat back in the shadows. He's not coming out... not this time, no! There are children screaming in the cargo hold. Babies crying... 

Some won't survive. Armitage presses his face to the hard wall, his fingertip tracing patterns in the corner. Don't let them see him... he can't take... can't take another day of this! No!

"MUMMY!!!!" Yet another wriggling child dragged in. "NOOOO!!!"

Armitage buries his face at his knees, his hands coming over his ears. It won't stop... the noise won't stop...

He's humming to himself, rocking from side to side... has to remember... a good place. A better place... 

There isn't one that he can remember… 

"What are you doing, sitting here, staring at the wall?!" A hand fists at the back of his collar. Armitage dragged back as his feet scramble for purchase.

"N-no sir!" He answers shakily. "I... I'm reserving energy for the day ahead, Sir!" 

Brendol only chuckles, shoving him and his face back against the wall.

"Well go ahead and stare then, if it's so interesting to you, you braindead slug." 

Armitage stays very still. A rattled breath of relief as Brendol moves on for the moment. He's very... busy…

The whole night passes with Armitage staring at that wall. He doesn't dare to move or look away. It helps... the blankness helps... if he just pretends that he is this wall... inanimate.

He managed to eat a portion earlier, at least. Still, his limbs tremble. Fatigued... even though he knows he wouldn't have been able to sleep if he tried.

They are going to send him out again. They will... very soon. He's not prepared.

Smoke gathers quickly and lingers in the burning air. Armitage smells it the next day. He's sent crawling into small spaces... to search for survivors... especially child survivors...

But he only finds the dead. He returns, covered in soot and coughing. A disgrace. He asks to wash his face. The water, at least, is a relief. The First Order has always had plenty of resources... but Armitage can't eat what he next finds.

They're going to move on. He's made sure not a speck of soot remains on his face, rubbing the whole time with a cloth. Brendol asks him to polish his shoes with that cloth. Armitage kneels... obedient in his task, the stains of blood from the soles of those immovable boots are left on the cloth... on Armitage's hands. He is relieved when Brendol doesn't kick him... despite the threats flying from his lips:

"Do you intend to take forever, boy?! Hurry up or you'll be left on my boots next."

Rax chuckles. 

They are likely painful lessons. The child was made of softer stock. His mother, he vaguely recalls, was just a girl in the kitchens. In the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet, Brendol had kept her. Hidden her from his wife - determined to have a child. Well, he certainly got him. It's something of poetic justice, Rax thinks, that Armitage is nothing like Brendol had wanted. 

He wanted a warrior. A god-ling. Instead, he got something soft and simpering. Sympathetic. No doubt, the reasons why Brendol is especially harsh - hoping to harden him into the steel of a weapon he can use. 

"Scouts think that a few families may have scattered... Do you suppose we ought to go after them?" Rax's hands are clasped behind his back - observing the carnage. Who knew that these pesky little heathens could put up such a fight? Utterly useless in the face of the sheer numbers the First Order has brought and of course, the difference of technology. What are sticks and staves against blaster fire?

Already, they have filled the holds of a troop carrier - sent it to the academy...

Brendol lifts his shoulders, his lips in an unpleasant pout, near to a snarl.

"They were the clever ones." He grumbles. "Just not clever enough." He pushes the lingering Armitage away from him. Nuisance of a shadow... "We can bleed the planet dry... it's just a matter of what you want." He adds. He fixes his stormy eyes on Rax. "But what I assumed..." he shifts his weight. "When you said all the children... I thought you meant all."

Armitage hides back in the shadows of the ship.

"Sand rats are more likely to be... durable." Brendol offers with another shrug.

They have their orders. 

Rax sucks his teeth, a scowl as he considers. 

"I hate this frakking planet." He mutters, turning away. 

"All it is." Rax agrees before striding back towards the belly of their ship - the temperature modulators are infinitely more pleasant than standing out in the sun. Aside from this - there are the peons to do the grunt work. He fancies he'll have a bit of luncheon, something cold to drink and to wait for more reports. The benefit of command...

Brendol's lips curve, though there's little mirth in it. Armitage hides further as Rax comes closer.

"Then let's make it hurt."

"Sir... we've got them..."

Brendol parts the crowd of troopers, marching ahead. Couples are locked in binders, shadows escorted past them by troopers. Armitage hurries behind. His father did expect him to come, after all. Their boots slip in the sand. More screaming and wailing children ahead...

Armitage drags his feet, chewing his lip. He can already taste blood as they approach, his lips have been cracked not just by his teeth, but by the heat.

They gravitate towards her. Shorter than some, perhaps it is simply because she doesn't flinch. 

"Where are our parents?" She questions - her voice is small, shrill. Demanding. And she's sent to the sand with a harsh knee brought to her face. They're told be silent. 

She gets up to her knees, holding her face - tears brimming in her eyes. She's never felt pain. Not like this before. She looks around, more stragglers are found, and more children are brought - the sun grows higher in the sky. Sweat... Hunger... Some of the children complain about needing to use the bathroom but no solution is given. 

Sweat, waste, fear... It sticks in her nose, in the back of her throat. 

Once the guard's back is turned, she pushes herself to her feet - she can still hear yelling over that ridge. They must still be there! She is running, small feet well adjusted to the sands - strong little legs carry her forward but nowhere near fast enough. A hand fists in the back of her shirt and drags her back.

This giant is not made of white, like bone... He wears black clothing, a cap to block the sun and a fierce look of utter cruel amusement. 

"Going somewhere, little rat?" Brendol chuckles, tossing her back amongst the other children. 

Her eyes are wide - why is he allowed to have a face and the others are not? Who is he!? There's someone else, too... A boy... Older than she is.. Taller, thinner - but far from a grown up. He's dressed in black. The same red hair as the man who'd drug her back to the others. 

Armitage's features are numb. He knew even as the girl was running...

No way to make it. Even if she did... she'd be murdered.

He's staring at the sands. Ashamed. These children are supposed to be his army? They all HATE him! He hasn't been taken from his home or parents. The ship IS his home. This IS his father. He's no different from the rest of the Order. He IS the First Order... even if he's worthless, as his father reminds him, always...

Still, he cannot look away for long, Brendol's large fingers pinch at his jaw, lifting his face to look at them. His gaze falls to her and for a second, their eyes meet. His, like the skies... Clear, light... Her expression changes from one of pained frustration to something else. Something hesitant and uncertain. Armitage swallows... She has hazel eyes. His stomach is twisting again and he hasn't eaten for too long. The sun, even as it fades is too hot. 

He tries to anchor his boots in the sand, but he's leaning. He needs to... not to faint...

Brendol stares down at him.

"Falling asleep, are we, boy?"

His mighty hand shakes Armitage's small shoulder. Her expression is something more stern as that big blackened shape steps between them, her view of the boy is cut off but she hears the tone... A slap on his cheek.

"Finding it boring now?!?!"

"N... no sir." Armitage breathes.

Her brows lift in surprise.

Armitage caresses the sting... looking away. 

"Pay attention!" Brendol commands. "Dim witted... you've been completely worthless and whimpering during the course of this entire escapade, and now you're falling ASLEEP?!" 

There's the slam of his gloved palm over Armitage's head and he jolts forward, his ears ringing. 

"No!" He answers back, still clutching his ears. "I'll do better!"

"For your sake, you had better." Brendol growls...

Another strike. 

Armitage nods, desperate, his eyes watering... but it looks like Brendol might be enjoying it now…

She fumes. Her parents had spoken against such behavior. In frustration, she had lashed out once. Hit her father's leg. 

This is not good behavior! And she wants to see her parents! 

Hungry, scared, angered... 

Armitage wavers on his feet, and Brendol knocks him this time to the sand. The imprints of his knuckles will find a way on Armitage's face. His pale skin reddened by the heat will now be blotched blue too, by his father's hand.

He coughs, trying to recover on the sands...

Brendol moves to kic-

The white carapaced men are talking... Something going on that she doesn't understand or care to find out! She charges forward again, small grubby hands fisting in the back of the long black coat before her and she pulls with all her might. 

"STOP!" She shouts, with as much authority as a five year old might possess. A bare smidgen, truly.

Armitage's breath hitches. He lifts his face. The girl! He... no one's ever...

Brendol bursts into a deafening laugh. 

"Oh? It looks like you've found a friend." 

Armitage scrambles to stand, his boots sinking in the sands...

"N...no..!"

He's surprised at himself. He can't bear... just not this one! Not this time! Just spare her... This girl... this tiny girl stood up to his FATHER! He can hardly process...

Brendol's large hands find her tiny waist, squeezing as he plucks her up, observing her with disgust. She's lifted so easily. Not with care, not in the playful way she'd find herself 'flying' in her father's arms with the animated sounds he'd made like a ship - telling her how to pilot as she'd pretend to fly.... 

No. This is uncomfortable - too high and the face that peers at her is not one of affection but of disgust. It seems... She cannot resist the urge. Is it Armitage’s instinct or her own? She flails her short legs, kicking at the man her hands slapping at the ones at her waist. 

"N-no, stop it, PUT HER DOWN!" Armitage doesn't think, he only throws his fists into his father's ribs.

He could die for this...

"PUT ME DOWN!" She echoes, her cheeks flushed with anger. She feels something inside - something desperate and fearful...

"You want me to put her down?!" Brendol's lips sneer...

Armitage's eyes widen. 

"W-wa-WAIT, NO!" 

Brendol lifts her higher before letting go, she falls... but Armitage comes to try and break the fall, to catch her. She collides into skinny arms, a bony frame and tumbles to the sand. She splutters, trying to orientate herself. He tries to turn her around, pointing for the only space they can run...

"GO! Go!" He commands her, his hand leaps to Brendol's belt. A wild attempt to snatch the blaster...

Brendol's fist sinks into his stomach and he stumbles back. A wounded sound escapes his lips... he didn't get the blaster…

She runs but her steps falter - dread... If she leaves... She turns back to see the boy running towards her. She waves her arm as if it might help him to run faster - where are they running to?! 

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" She screams uselessly - a tiny voice that makes no difference. Not to the soldiers carrying away the other screaming and crying children and certainly not to that brute!

His heart twists. No one has ever defended him before...

The stormtroopers are alerted by the small scuffle, their own blasters drawn, but Brendol raises his hand, pausing them...

"Get the other children in the cargo hold." He orders in a snarl. Armitage is crawling backwards, he twists, breaking into a run...

Her little legs! She won't be fast enough. He pulls in a breath, lifting her into his own arms, far more gentle than his father had been, despite how desperately he runs, almost falling in the sand, he gasps for breath, his mind clouded from dehydration... 

Armitage is family business... and if he's chosen the girl to protect, then she's Brendol's business too.

His father! He can feel him behind them!

He stifles a sob. What can he DO?! there's nothing to DO! She'll DIE!

He feels fingertips at his back. B-Brendol!! Behind him! She yelps with surprise as the boy draws closer, drawing her up into his arms. She's light, clutching to his slender form, burying her face at his chest for a moment as she is jostled with each step. He begins to stumble and she wriggles. The man is on them... reaching hands. She howls at him, her arm waving, slapping uselessly at air while the boy grabs the sand. 

He makes a ragged cry, he throws the fistful of sand in his father's eyes. A howl of irritation and pain. 

Armitage is stunned for a millisecond that... that that actually worked... but then he is sprinting again, holding her close, he has to get to cover!

The ships! The crafts are his only hope! He ducks behind the wings with her, moving the the accompanying craft and then the next, hiding in the back, in the shadows, he squeezes with her, underneath. Brendol will be too big to reach them... they won't have long, but Brendol doesn't seem close... anymore... 

He catches his breaths.

He looks unwell... She climbs from his arms, peering around the edge of the ship that shields them. A small space. She turns back to look at the boy - his cheeks reddened by the sun - he doesn't know to wrap his face... How she would have done if there had been time... 

She reaches to the small belt around her waist - the little canteen there - hands it to him before falling to her knees. She simply stares at him. Unlike anyone she's ever seen. His skin is so pale, his eyes so light, his hair so vibrant in contrast to the drab shades of the desert - the only world she's ever known.

Her little belt. Water? 

He shakes his head. 

"The ship will have plenty." He whispers, offering it back to her. She clutches the canteen, confused. Water is precious. That's what her parents have taught her.

She won't have plenty. This might be her last. He hangs his face. 

He listens... but hears nothing. His eyes are still teared, he can hear his own pants, which he tries so hard to silence. He can finally look at her more closely. She's so small... is she only three? Four? He doesn't know. Her hair is strange. Three little brown buns piled on top of each other. Her eyes are round. 

He pulls a hand through his hair. It's too hot to think... but if he doesn't have a plan, then...

"Why did you do that?" 

Why did she defend him? Doesn't she... understand what it means? Maybe she doesn't.  
Her lower lip trembles. 

"He was h-hurting you!" She says, her round little face growing cross. 

He stares at her. Something close to a little laugh. She doesn't even know him... he thought... but doesn't he deserve it?

"Well he won't hurt you, sand rat." Armitage murmurs. There has to be a way...

She blinks at him. Sand rat? Her nose crinkles - her freckles standing out across her cheeks. 

"Sand rats are dirty." And tasty... if cooked well.... 

Armitage shrugs, looking her up and down. She does wear rags. Mostly... he learned it, since the people here are referred to in no other way that he's heard. He doesn't know her name. Maybe it's better if he doesn't... if this doesn't go well...

"Well you are a little dirty." He mumbles... but then he's grinning. It feels strange and weak on his face. "And now you have to sneak a little... a little like a sand rat, you understand?" They can't be seen…

She looks down at her clothes - paler, though... Yes... They are dirtied with grub - the light color is better in the sun than the black that he wears - both show the sands all too well. Now his have streaks of white - salt... Dried sweat. He's not made for this climate... 

"I have to get back to my parents." She says after a moment, clear that she'd never been spoken to as a child. Babied or spoken to any different than an adult - an eloquent grasp of the language in spite of her young age. 

"You can stay with us!"

His eyes are saddened. No or little chance of that… He lowers his face.

"No..."

That is... impossible.

"We... we have to hide you, first." Armitage whispers to her, his voice both hoarse and thick.

"What about the others?" She questions - there were so many! She doesn't know them, but she can feel it... They'll be hurt, too....

He looks at her. Any trace of a smile has faded into a grim misery.

"We can't save everyone." He whispers. "I'm sorry." 

He flinches, a finger to his lips. She huffs a small impatient breath. A trooper's boots pass them...

He breathes when he thinks they are alone once more, thinking once again...

"Well, just you, then." She'll agree to that - the two of them, then.

His eyes settle on some crates, just about able to be glimpsed...

Her only hope...

"I'm going to get you to those crates, sand rat." He promises. "But you can't make a sound..." His eyes water. Foolish child that he is... to be so weak but... but why does she want him?! He is filth. He wipes his eyes before the tears can fall.

"O...okay..." he gathers her, moving nearer to the light, once again. It... seems clear...

He doesn't want to go out there... but...

He grits his teeth.

"Now!" He squirms out from under the ship, helping her out and into his arms once more, he rushes her to the crates.

There were planning to leave them here, he overheard it, during the previous night.

"What are going to do?" She questions in a whisper - how are these going to help them? He's too big to fit inside one and they'll be seen if anyone walks around the corner!

He has no time to answer the question. He sets her down, checking around him before his nails tear at the lid of the crate. He pulls with all his might...

What if it doesn't come loose?! 

He stifles a cry, only driven further by his desperation. Finally, something shifts. His nails bleed but he hardly notices. She soon joins him, pushing with small, rather ineffective fingers but she tries anyway, her tongue between her lips and her face scrunched into a look of concentration. 

The lid moves and... 

"In you get..." he plucks her up, more delicately, laying her inside. There are tiny red dots on the ivory of her shirt. She's sat inside. 

"These crates aren't leaving the planet." He promises softly. "But you h..." a tear has come loose and his throat burns... "you have to be quiet..."

He's crying... Like mother cried, when they left the hut... She reaches for his cheek, to trap the tear and wipe it away. Her little hand...

He doesn't know what motivates him. He... at first he doesn't understand, but then he gives her his cheek. His eye still aches from the punch... his cheek still red from the slap... her little hand combined with his tears is... are... soothing. 

"What about you?" She questions, her expression is one of distress and concern.

Sh...

Another tear finds his cheek.

She really cares? About a worthless slip of paper she's never met...? He leans into her touch.

"I'm sorry, sand rat." He whispers weakly. He struggles to breathe. "I... I'll come back for you." He finally stutters out.

A promise he knows he can't keep. It weighs on his heart but he has to give this... this strange light... something. She is, a light, after all. Not an oppressive light. It's different. It's something he can hardly remember. Hardly comprehend... 

But it is something that must be kept safe. Kept away from Brendol.

"I promise... I promise..."

He seems to press into her hand, she frowns, her own eyes growing tearful as she leans in closer to inspect the redness of his face - the faint purple smudge of a bruise. She knows bruises, she's slipped plenty of times and her shins are littered with them - clumsy but exuberant child. 

She stares, realization... H-he's leaving! She clutches at him, small arms thrown around his neck - no! No he can't go back out there! He'll get hurt! That man will find him! 

"Don't go!" She pleads in a small, strained whimper.

His lips part as her little arms come around him. This... th... he doesn't know what this is... but...

But it's not a threat. It's... affection? His heart feels like it's splitting. What does it mean?

He blinks further tears from his eyes.

"It's alright..."

He has to let her go...

He tries to detach her arms, softly.

"I'll come back..." it's the only reassurance he can give and it's a lie. "B... but I have to try and... save them first..."

Her parents...

He can distantly hear his father's voice...

No more time!

"I'm sorry!" He buries his face near to hers before he lays her down. Nothing in this crate except old vegetables. She whimpers and he rests his face near to her - she hugs his neck one last time before she's tucking up small as she can to fit in the crate. It's uncomfortable, the vegetables are hard...

"Eat them if you have to..." he grits his teeth. "I'll come back, sand rat... I promise... I promise!"

"Be careful!" She pleads, peering up at him, tears slipping from her cheeks.

Careful… He winces, finally drawing the crate's lid over her head. His chest feels so... tight.

Her little face... burned into his memory. His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, but then he's moving away. She's hidden now... and his father is close...

Brendol's face is flushed with anger as much as the heat but Armitage only plans to distract him, throwing his fists at him once more... 

Brendol's hand comes to lock around his throat, cutting off his breath... Armitage kicking, hitting... anything!

"Where's your friend, you filthy bastard child?!" 

Armitage only shakes his head.

"Y...'ll... never... fin..." his grip tightens and Armitage wheezes, his pulse now a war drum in his skull. "Find... her..."

His bloodied nails are concealed in his fist...

Brendol flings him down, on the sand. Frustrated.

A moment later... and his eyes are narrowed, his hand fisting in Armitage's hair, wrenching him upright once more. 

"Come on..." 

Armitage stumbles, his hand trying to loosen Brendol's hold...

He's being taken away. Away from that girl. She's safe now...

She has to be safe...

His feet are sore from walking and struggling in the heat. He has only his own clinging to Brendol's arm to support him. Finally, he is drawn to where the parents have been lined up. Execution. 

Where are the girl's parents?!

Armitage is dropped to the sand. He hurries to find his feet, looking over the couples. Brown hair... one of them surely must have that shame shade of hair... maybe hazel eyes? Freckles? Armitage searches those faces...

Most of them are in poor condition now. 

Unlike the children, they're bigger and angrier. Less scared. But there's still fear. Fear as they're made to kneel. 

They hold hands, trembling... Their daughter... where will she be...? What will happen to her? Prayers, to the Force, to gods, to the stars... Because pleading these soldiers to heed them has been ineffective.

"Where are you taking them?!"

A couple of the others grumble their own questions. Where are their sons and daughters?! What are they doing to their children?! 

Armitage sees them! They have to be hers! He is rushing forward. He can't think of anything else-

But Brendol's hand anchors him like the ball on a chain. He's pulled back... paused from running. He squirms, trying to reach them. 

They see another child. None of theirs. Too clean. Dressed like these monsters... 

"HEY!" He screams, hoping they'll hear him.They lift their heads. "Your daughter! Your DAUGHTER IS SAFE! She's hidden!!!" They stare at each other and then back to that boy. 

"QUIET!" 

Armitage collapses on the sand once again... but he doesn't feel it... he's crawling... then racing forward to them. Their binders... troopers everywhere... he has to free them!

"Wh-what?" A hoarse whisper. Rey's father tries to get to his feet - he's throws his weight sideways into the trooper beside him as Rey's mother reaches for the boy, lifting her bound wrists.

Armitage stares at her. A mother living... her child lives! There's hope! He takes her binders... but what can he do?! He can't... he doesn't have the key! He looks into her eyes. So much like the girl's eyes... a hopeless shake of his head, he's sorry!

"She's hidden..." he repeats. "It's... it's a child soldier program-"

"ENOUGH!" Brendol draws him back. His blaster raised to the father...

She tries to grasp his hands - she can guess what will come. If what he said is true... 

"You have to help her, please! You have to... you have to stay safe!" She tries to meet with his pale eyes. "Thank you.... Thank you!" She whispers, desperately - her eyes brimming with tears. It seems to be a child in this environment is a danger - no matter the resemblance to that man....

She thanks him... b... but he can do nothing! Nothing except to hide her. His eyes fill with tears once more. 

"I'll try..." he promises, his voice is little more than a whisper.

He can't... do anything...

He sees Brendol's blaster... he reaches to lower it. Not the father!

"Please..."

The blaster is pressed back into his hands...

"It's up to you, boy." Brendol snarls, shoving him forward, taking his hands to aim at the man...

Armitage tries to turn around... a mad moment of considering trying to shoot his own father... but he can't... move!

The father stops his fighting, pushed back to his knees. 

He stares up at the boy. He struggles... But his wife's hand in his... He fights with the urge - he could probably overpower him... He swallows hard and closes his eyes. Resolving to be... Calm. It's not this boy’s fault....

"You know what I'll do." Brendol whispers his warning in Armitage's ear.

His kill... will be so much worse. Armitage swallows back a sob, looking to the father.

"I'm sorry!" He pulls away from Brendol, the blaster still raised. "I'm so sorry!"

His finger comes to the trigger... he knows where it will land. Quick. Clean...

It's so loud. The sound is so loud…

It only takes a second.... 

His wife screams, pained and sorrowful - she can't.... She can't help herself, she leans over his body, clutching at him, sobbing. Her love! Her love!!!

When she looks up, that scalding hatred is purely upon the man who stands behind the boy.

"I'm sorry!" Armitage repeats, he tries to turn away. He can't... do anymore!

Brendol's nose wrinkles. Too quick.

"Pathetic." He snatches the blaster away.

Armitage buries his face in his hands. Three more shots into the father... to make his body jerk...

Each one is so loud! Then the mother...!

That limp hand, in Armitage's dreams...

"No!!!" He tugs on his father's arm...

It's too late...

He tries to meet the mother's eyes. He didn't... mean to...

Brendol fires. A slow death. A shot to her abdomen…

That little girl in the crate... she has no parents! Armitage sinks to his knees. He's...failed her.   
His face is washed with tears.

He hears his father give the Order. All parents executed...

A hail of fire from the stormtroopers as a spillage of blood sinks into the sands. 

~

That girl...

Armitage failed. She'll be alone. Forever... he sobs against his palms. He knows he doesn't want to watch as Brendol nears the girl's mother... and what he does next... after he banishes the troopers from the scene.

She looks down at the young man, her expression is quite serious. 

Such things as affection have no place in the First Order.

"Armitage..." She begins, hands clasped behind her back. She has him wrapped in a blanket... Shock... A cup of bitter tea…

He stares ahead of him, the cup slightly trembling in his fingers.

"Yes, Admiral?" A small voice, his eyes permanently lined with tears.

"The girl..." 

It's all Brendol has spoken about... All afternoon. A wretched desert rat... She tried not to pay any mind, but when Brendol Hux returns with blood saturating his gloves, it's hard not to take some note.

He closes his eyes, turning his face away.

She's safe. That… He saved one life. It's not enough... but...

"I won't tell you where she is." He wouldn't tell his father. He's not telling anyone. She's safe! The mission is done! Why can't they let it go?!

Rae considers him, a small frown. 

"Your father won't forgive this insult, you realise." She's never seen Armitage try to protect anyone…

He still thinks of how it felt... when her little hands found his cheeks. Her mother's eyes...

Armitage makes a sound of dark amusement.

"He doesn't forgive anything." He spits.

She sits down beside him, a careful glance around - the small mess room is still quite empty. 

She licks her lower lip. 

Perhaps there is hope for this boy. A glimmer, albeit a small one - that he might not be lost...

"Why are you trying to protect her, Armitage?"

His shoulders hunch. He doesn't meet Sloane's eyes as he huddles deeper into the blanket. He takes a sip of tea. A long pause.

"Because she tried to protect me." He finally admits, lifting his eyes. 

They hold a dangerous gaze for a young boy. 

"She was tiny." But she did what no one else had... or could... or wanted to.

She tried to protect him? Sloane lifts a brow. 

She was tiny. 

"There's a chance she may not survive on her own. Is that worth it to you, Armitage?" She asks, pouring herself a cup of tea.

He hides his face away. 

"There's a chance." He agrees. 

There's a chance too, that she'll survive. A chance... is enough. His lips curve in the smallest of smiles, his eyes closed. That little form...

She'll find her way. She will…

"Any chance is worth it." He says aloud. "That's what a chance means."

She hides the small smile behind her teacup. 

"You know... Leadership demands you make hard choices..."

He crosses his legs, leaning back.

"The harder choices are often the right ones." Armitage whispers. "And the right choices will get you killed." He mumbles. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe once or twice it's worth dying for..."

She looks at him. A small nod. 

"I'm proud of you, Armitage." She gets to her feet. It's nothing his father will feel, however. 

He'll soon come to find whether or not he has the mettle to stand by his choices. It's the kind of strength the First Order needs... If any real changes are to be made.

He blinks at her.

Proud...?

Proud of him committing treason? His cheeks heat slightly. Armitage drinks more of his tea, slumping in his blanket. He's exhausted. So tired…

She gets to her feet, putting her teacup in the sink. 

She turns back, arms crossed. He looks so tired.

"You should sleep, Armitage." He'll have a lot more work ahead of him... She's heard the plans - that he is to lead these children... 

"You'll need your strength." She draws the code cylinder from her jacket and passes it to him. 

"You can use my quarters." 

His features are a little softer.

Brendol doesn't have the guts to go in there…

Sleep? He makes a little sound. His bones ache. He has little, if no strength at all.

"Thank you, Admiral." He comes to stand, trying to keep a rigid posture, but he has a slight limp and his shoulders were slumped as he places his cup in the sink.

She watches him, a concealed concern and sadness. 

If she'd ever had a child... 

She puts the thoughts away. It is not her future. And Armitage is not her son. 

"Off you go... Upper deck." She has a lot of work to do, of her own. Pacifying Brendol and moving forward with preparations. Trying to reason with Rax.

"Thank you..." He repeats, heading off... By the time he reaches her mattress... It's too tempting. He collapses there and falls into slumber instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

Twenty Years Later. 

Armitage has leant in, close to her. He feels something he hasn’t felt in many years. He thinks he can identify this age-old pit in his stomach as… regret. Or it might simply be a lack of sleep and the stresses of his life churning his insides in a moment of reprieve as he observes her features. She is young: with pink lips and sun-kissed, freckled cheeks. It’s not often in the First Order that one gets to observe a beautiful and unmasked face. She stirs and he steps back and away from her, turning away. He couldn't have Ren lead this interrogation despite how stubborn and wild he had been. It took much of Hux's energy to even be rid of him. 

She feels her limbs, her own breaths. She opens her eyes, with a small gasp. Everything comes flooding back. There's something... She jerks her wrists and tries to move her legs. She looks around, in a moment of panic.

"Where am I?" She questions, her limbs trembling from frustration and fear...

"I can't tell you that."    


She cannot know that this is the Starkiller Base.   


A man, with red hair - stands with his back to her. She looks up and around, searching... Is she on a ship? It sounds like a ship. The air is stale, like a ship. She works her wrists again, a huff as the restraints hold.   
  


"Who are you?" She questions, doubting that this is the man who'd kidnapped her: Kylo Ren.   
  


Her second question is something that he supposes he can tell her. If nothing else, then to make her afraid and more willing to speak.   
  


"I am General Armitage Hux of the First Order." He still doesn't dare to face her. "And you... are Rey, the scavenger girl from Jakku, am I correct?"   
  


He knows of course, that he is correct. The question is, to what extent is she willing to lie?   
  


The F-f... She swallows hard, gritting her teeth. A few days ago, she was nobody.

"Y-yes." She hisses, her arms flexing and straining, she can feel her wrists rubbing raw against the metal.   


"Don't strain so much,” he whispers. He can hear the slight rustling of her struggle. "The restraints are quite unbreakable."    


In theory, at least.   


She glances up, narrowing her eyes at his back.    


"So, I should just.... patiently wait for you to kill me?" She questions, sounding incredulous. 

"No," he turns, just a slight turn of his shoulder, his eyes still tracing the floor. "I think you should be asking yourself exactly how you intend to survive."

Her eyes narrow again.    


"I have some ideas. How about you let me out of these restraints and I can run them by you,” she goads. 

He only chuckles, quietly. If it can be called a chuckle. It is more a sound of disbelief. She is so very fierce for one so young and in her current situation.

"No. I am afraid, I am not stupid, such a goad will not be successful." His lips twitch to form the ghost of a smirk. "And the only way to escape those restraints... is to be compliant." His words are said gently.

Compliant... She mutters, swearing under her breath - like hell!

"I know what the First Order does!" She speaks through gritted teeth.

Torture... murder... She growls, thrashing her legs uselessly. He shakes his head at the kick of her legs. A creature trapped in the hunt.

"Do you?" He asks her, softly. "Do you truly know which side you're on?"    


It seems so peculiar that she should find herself here. She's had no presence in the Resistance or its activities prior to this.   


"I'm not on any side!" She bites back.   


"Oh?" He finally comes to look at her with sharp, turquoise eyes.

She is taken aback. A ghost of... A memory, a vague recollection... Too fragile to touch, trying to cling to it only dissolves it. Clutching dry sands... It's gone in the matter of a few seconds. 

"Care to tell me then, exactly why... you joined with the traitor FN2187?" He takes a step nearer. "Why did you resist and fight the First Order with the resistance? Why did the droid show a piece of the map to you? The very map that leads to Luke Skywalker?" he sneers, now only a step from her. 

"Your troopers were shooting at me!" She doesn't even know where to begin - that the droid had insisted on following her... That Finn had... And the map... Not even complete! Useless! "Of course I'd defend myself!" She pulls again. 

"Currently... it sounds so very much,  _ Rey _ , like you  _ have _ chosen a side." His hand lifts to the surface she lies on as he searches her face. "But it is not too late..."   


She stills as he comes closer, his hands on the metal at her back. She stares straight back at him, trying not to feel intimidated. 

"Too late to... To join a..." She twists her hands, wincing at the raw sensation. "A machine of death and misery?!"

Her bright star-like gaze. He flinches. The most subtle of flinches. There's a crate and... 

He presses his gloved hand more firmly at the metal. 

No. That was only a dream. Why is he thinking of it, now?! It… was just a mistake. Just a wish. A child’s prayer made in the middle of the night as he hugged the little doll he had made, and cold bed sheets to his small, shivering form. He only imagined a girl: an imaginary friend who was born from the golden sand dunes. One who would always be waiting…

"It is the only future for the galaxy," Hux continues, trying to seal up his own thoughts, filing them away in the cold and complex rooms in which he buries impractical or unwanted memories. "It is the only safety and security. It is  _ Order _ … You seem to think you know a lot about the First Order." He shifts his weight, slightly. "And yet simultaneously... you are completely out of your depth. Can you deny it?"

The future of the galaxy is bleak, Rey thinks, if that is the truth. Safety and security? She scoffs. She turns her face away, his expression and his proximity is intense... She grits her teeth. She can't deny it, but she won't admit it either. She sighs, feigning boredom. 

"I suppose you’d better get to your torturing then. That's what you lot enjoy, isn't it?"

He looks at her as if she is a complex puzzle for him to solve under a time limit. Which, in a sense, she is. He gives her more space, more room to breathe. A moment of his gloved fingertip threatening to reach to her jawline... but he...

He can't. There's something about the freckles on her face... something that isn't... new.

She closes her eyes, maybe it will all just go away. She exhales shakily. Finally: some room to breathe. She bites at the inside of her cheek. 

"There is more to the First Order and more to me, Rey, than torture." 

She opens her eyes. He insists there is more to him and the Order, but she doubts it. 

"Don't forget murder and the destruction of entire planets." She adds. 

That constitutes as ‘more’, right? 

His jaw works, deciding not to respond to that particular remark. He turns away again. Perhaps any more pleasant approach is hopeless. The destruction of the Hosnian System is still fresh in his mind and it still makes his heart jump. The terrifying power he discovered at his own fingertips… which he had crafted from months spent awake all night and working. He didn't... entirely expect it to... to be successful, somehow. Still, it had won Snoke's praise and allowed him to keep his life. The most shallow of prizes for the greatest of expenses. His life will never  _ not _ be plagued with nightmares. His stomach is twisting. His pulse throbs in his neck. 

"Torture is a last resort." He holds his hands behind his back, as rigid as ever. "But if you could simply cooperate, you might even be rewarded."

She snorts. 

"What sort of reward could a sand rat possibly want from the Order?" She snaps, "you could simply return me to Jakku. You didn't have to take me!"

_ Sand rat…? _

He stares ahead of him. A small bundle of wraps held tight. Blistering heat. Thick hands clenched at his throat. A little face, like a drop of dew catching the light of the dawn. He steps nearer to her, once more, now observing closely. Something like fear, etched into the sharp lines of his features.

No, no… no! Not now!

He tries to keep his breaths even.

Her eyes are drawn to his again. His are pale, clear and bright like the sky. She does her best to glare at him - she will not.... She will not be intimidated! 

"There is plenty... a… a sand rat could wish for,” he murmurs. "Not least the return to your home, but also the possibility of living very comfortably."

_ I'll come back.. I promise… _

Armitage shakes his head. No. No, no, impossible! He squeezes the edge of the metal.

There's no such thing as a comfortable life on Jakku, Rey silently decides. She's already been gone too long! Every second... every minute might be one she misses their return!

"Tell me what you saw!" He demands.

Desperation leaks into the tone of the question.

"A lot of tie-fighters, blaster fire, and a monster in a mask!" She shouts at him. 

That's what she saw last, at least.

He takes her face in his fingertips, their faces now inches apart.

"You know what I'm referring to," he spits. "The map. The  _ last piece _ , what did you  _ see _ ?!" He tries to keep his tone calm, despite the rise in volume, despite the faint panic in the back of his mind that he can't understand.

That girl in the crate was a  _ wretched _ dream! a pleasant figment of his childish, foolish imagination! She DID NOT SURVIVE! He did NOT save her! He is made for death! He  _ can’t _ save ANYONE!

She squirms - the leather is cool against her skin. 

"It's useless!" she hisses back. "It wasn't even completed!" she insists.

"I will only ask so many times..." he narrows his eyes, his grip only tightening. "It is only out of generosity and mercy that I will give you another chance now, to think over your answer. Tell me: What. did. you  _ see _ ?!"

She feels a cool chill settle over her. Fear, gripping her spine. She swallows, her mouth is dry. 

"I only saw  _ grass _ for the first time, a couple of days ago. Do you really think a simple scavenger is going to know what I was looking at?! Dots! I saw lots and lots of dots!"

"Can you draw it?!" he asks, trying not to sound as desperate as he is. "Can you remember it...? You will show it to me..." he releases her face. "And as a reward, you'll be considered a friend... and not an enemy to our cause."

_ PUT ME DOWN! _

He hears it echo in his mind. He steps back. His chest hammers.

_ LEAVE HIM ALONE! _

He finds himself short of breath. What is wrong with him?!

"With all my fine instruments of writing that I was instructed to use?! I think you're right... If only I could go back to Jakku to collect them." She growls, sarcastic. "I've no need of friends like the First Order's cause. I've been alone until now and it's suited me fine."

He grits his teeth. A faint tremble of anger. She denies him... and he knows that now he should either present her with a solution of drawing with her finger on a data pad… Or something more drastic. But he can't. He…

"...Always alone?" He dares to guess.  The girl had parents…

"None of your business!" 

"Why do you want to go back?" Armitage can’t help but ask the question.

She's waiting.... 

"Someone was going to meet me there." Hopefully.... More than one...

The little doll Armitage had made once and hid under his pillow so he could remember... had three little brown bumps on her head. A hairstyle somehow similar to… His eyes are wide. His hands curl in fists. He tries to conceal himself from her.

"You don't remember, do you?" It slips from his lips, without his consent.

Her brow creases. 

"Remember what?!" She tries to think of her capture, - had she missed a detail?

He scoffs softly. A curse he doesn't speak aloud. He hides in the shadows with his back to her, running a gloved hand over his face. Kriffing... Gods…

It  _ was _ her. She  _ was  _ real.

He tries to keep... standing tall. 

Damn it... why did she have t... to get into this?!

"It was you. Twenty years ago. In the desert..."

"Well I was born there,” She answers, sharply. But... He's moved away, just a silhouette.... Back turned, a long coat.

She remembers a thing of her nightmares. Old nightmares: cries, screams... She blinks, looking away from him, her jaw set.

"Yes," Armitage agrees, his hands uncurling from fists and his limbs loosen in defeat. "And you nearly died there."

She.... does remember. Being horribly ill... B-but why...? 

She couldn't have been more than a baby... a toddler. He carried her.

"We've met before."

She stiffens, eyes widening. 

Th-the red hair... The uniform... Could it be?! 

That  _ boy _ …

He had been a feverish dream, hadn't he? She's forgotten. So many of those early days are lost to her. She makes a small sound.

"Ha...!" Disbelief, but she doesn't sound so entirely convinced.

He makes his own chuckle. More of a scared, tired sound. It doesn't matter. It was years ago... and yet…

"Sand rat..." he repeats.

A little snort. Worthless boy that he was.

"They can't come back," He confesses.

Her parents were shot down. They were just two other victims in the heat of that terrible day.

_ Sand rats are dirty. You'll have to sneak a little...  _

She shakes her head. No.... 

She draws a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut. He survived. But... now stands... In the place of that.... She shakes her head slowly. No, no no! It's not…!

"That wasn't a dream...?" She manages weakly, a soft sniff, a tired pull on her wrists - unable to reach to wipe away her tears. "A-and you're... Him?" she breathes, barely more than a whisper.

Armitage... She'd never known his name.

He feels naked in front of her. She saw him beaten. Just a child. Gods, what is he going to do?! It... it shouldn't make a difference. It could be anyone. Just, oh Gods! Why her?! Armitage looks over his shoulder at her. The cage of his chest feels too small for the beating of his heart.

"Yes," he confirms in a thick whisper. 

Oh Gods, oh kriff! What- How can he avoid this?! Yet how can he go against the Order now?!

She hangs her head. He never got away. She draws a deep breath. 

"And... that man?" She questions in a soft whisper.

He closes his eyes.

"Brendol Hux... died of... mysterious causes. Suspected to have been poisoned. That was four years ago."

The golden beetle and its black, viscous poison. His tone reveals it to her quite plainly: that he was the cause.

She grits her teeth. Something savage lives inside her. Something heavy and oppressive... 

"Good." 

Yet, he is still here! He escaped nothing. She leans her head back, looking up to the ceiling. 

She supposes she ought to thank him, but it seems perhaps the time for gratitude has passed. He finds himself as stuck as she is. 

It doesn't change anything. They're here, now, and nothing can change what's happened to lead them here.

"I couldn't come back,” he admits, his voice is small. "And I couldn't stop..."

Her parent’s deaths. He looks to the floor.

She remembers... Or least, she thinks she remembers: when the sickness abated and she was left in Plutt's care, all the ships, all those white shells and the monsters in black had vanished. Along with her family, and every other child. So completely, that it was easy to believe it had all been a dream. 

"S-so... What now?" She asks in a gentle voice.

He draws a hand through his hair.

"I need that piece..." 

Even if it seems such a foolish pursuit. Hux never even... cared about Skywalker. Aren't there more important matters since he's been hidden? Still, if he returns with nothing… He plucks a data pad from a surface, stepping nearer to her.

"I'll set you free. I'll help you escape safely, if you draw it." 

The deal seems fair... doesn't it? They both get what they need, don't they?

She winces, her face lowering. He comes closer, holding a tablet. She looks at it, then at her bound hands. 

"Would you come with me?" She asks, looking up at him, at his face, and how it's changed from the obscure recollection of her memories.

He stares at her. 

"Of course I can't." A ragged whisper. "I'm the General of th..."

He sighs. She could hardly understand. He releases her from the restraints. If she beats him and runs off, without giving him anything, then… Then it won't be too different to Brendol's reaction after he hid her away. He faced it once, for her, he can endure it again.

He presents the blank screen.

"With your fingertip...?" He suggests, quietly.

She looks at him, a little disbelievingly. She rubs at her wrists - reddened, even through her arm wraps. Then she takes a small step, moving her legs out of the braces and comes to stand on the floor. She smiles sadly. She supposes she already knew that response was coming. He's trapped here. A small part of her understands at least... a portion of the reality. She stares at the screen for a long moment, then up at his face. She... Almost wishes she could do it - that she could help... But she genuinely doesn't recall all the details, or even most of them - she'd been... Bewildered, caught up in the excitement of learning of a legend being real.

She blinks away her tears and draws a deep breath, lifting her fingertip. A vague shape. The outline of the map itself, she vaguely recalls. She tries to trace it out - but the markings within it... Or where it even connects to....  With a frustrated sound, she swipes her fingers across the lot of it. It won’t work, a-and if it could, should it? Luke, wherever he is, must surely be better than... than the First Order.

He thinks it is working... he tries to piece it together, as she goes... but all too soon she's gotten rid of it. He makes his own sound of frustration, the data pad is put down on a table surface heavily. Almost a slam. 

"What happened to my parents?" she questions. "Do you know? Did they escape?" He said they couldn't come back, but…

He backs away, putting distance between them.

"They're gone," he swallows. "They're dead."

She stills. She feels an emptiness inside. That's it, then? Everything she did, all the waiting, had been for nothing. A-and... And now... A fragment, a memory... That's... all that... 

She steps closer. 

"Armitage, I..." she falters. "I genuinely don't... The map, I only saw it for a moment, I..." Can't help him... 

Or... Can she? She searches the room - looking for anything that might serve as... As a weapon. He might not be able to leave, but what if he was  _ taken _ ? She could... Kidnap him - then his leaving wouldn't be his fault!

His shoulders are hunched. He never could do anything to save them. To  _ save _ anyone. His fist meets with the wall. He has nothing... then. He leans against the surface, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Her hands search the panels. If she focuses, she can recall old ships, similar to these designs. She presses her palm against a sleek panel and it slides open. Of course there is nothing long or familiar inside. No staff, nothing to bludgeon... Only... A knife. 

She pulls it free and approaches Armitage. 

"Let's go,” she says, reaching for his arm.  She has a vague plan - if this is anything like the others, they'll be able to use the maintenance halls. He should know how to operate the codes to unlock a fighter in the hangar.

He assumes at the sound of the sliding panel or door, that she intends to leave. He should... should injure himself. He can make it look like he put up a fight.

Then he sees her blade… and hears her words. He laughs, weakly, looking at her unconvinced.

"Rey..." he shakes his head. There is no way... "what are you  _ doing _ ?" He gestures to the door. "Go."

Her own expression is quite serious.

"No." She shakes her head, taking his hand. "Together. We'll go together this time. No more crates..." She switches the blade around in her grasp. Defensive. "You'll just have to pretend to be my prisoner."

Pretend to...  _ what _ ? He can only laugh. Which is strange enough, since he hasn't laughed properly at anything in so long. 

"This... can't..." 

"Work? Neither should hiding in a crate have worked."

He huffs. 

"Well for a start..." he fishes out his blaster from his belt, "this might be a better approach..." 

What is he doing?! This is TREASON! "J-Just take it and go!" he pleads.

She stows the knife in her boot. Good plan. She takes it from him, examining it - trying to figure out what will work. She fumbles with the switch. It seems... She points it straight ahead. 

He steps away as she points it. Has she even handled one before? This is absurd…

She scrunches her fingers in his coat and tries to drag him toward. Which panel is the door? He opens the door, at least, against his better judgement.

"Go." 

He can't... he  _ won't  _ go with her. There's too much that he must- must do! That he must finish!

"I'm not leaving without you! You must know of lots of planets... I can fly - but you have to show me the way..." she insists.

He makes a sound of utter bewilderment.

"We're enemies!" 

She scoffs. 

"Enemies don't protect each other." She mutters, tugging. 

He…

"Rey, I  _ killed _ your father!" A confession made shamefully made with a trembling lip. "We're on opposite sides..." He has stopped in the corridor. 

She looks over her shoulder, a look of pain on her face. N-no doubt... It was out of his hands... 

"I told you, I'm not on any side,” she finally replies, quietly.

"The First Order...  _ is _ ... me." 

She shakes her head. No…

"It doesn't have to be!" she pleads - if he doesn't move! They'll likely be spotted! Their window is only getting smaller!

"Damn it, Rey!" he snarls out, a faint glassiness in his eyes... "but it is!"

Whether he could have escaped his fate or not... it... it's too late!

She narrows her eyes, her expression becoming more serious. Then a frown. She presses the blaster back to his chest, side on - not a threat.

"Then... I'm staying." She lifts her chin. "I'm not going to lose you again." She glances up to his eyes. "B-because... It wasn't.... Just them..." who she was waiting for....

He is exasperated, his expression becomes one of shock.

"Don't be a fool!" She doesn't know... "you have no idea what you're deciding! Rey, we were infants! you couldn't even remember me!"

It doesn't make sense! She can't just-

She shrugs, defiant. She's never... Really decided anything for herself, before. And it seems, neither has he; except to steal her away and hide her. It doesn’t matter that she couldn’t remember him. She does now.

"I can't go back!" Not to that endless... Loneliness.

There are footsteps. He curses.

"The blaster!" A whisper in the manner of a scream. "Don't think. Just... shoot! Run!!"

She takes it, turning around - shooting at the figure just beginning to take shape around the corner - she has no intention of leaving him behind but…

A raised, gloved hand. Spread fingers. The blaster shots hovering with a hum only inches from his metal mask.

He leaves them hovering. Dangerous, bright lights, as he moves past.

Armitage rushes forward, Oh Gods, not-

The gloved hand lifts to freeze her in place, just as Hux rounds the corner. His eyes narrow as he comes to face the impenetrable visor... of _Kylo Ren._


	3. Chapter 3

She yelps as the bolts freeze, the lifted hand - that mask! She gasps, her body is paralysed.

"Ren…” Armitage inhales and tries to stand tall. “Congratulations on recapturing the prisoner."

"I'll inform the Supreme Leader of your incompetence, General," Kylo answers, his cold voice is distorted.

Rey growls, struggling against the unseen hand that holds her in place. Not this again! She breathes heavily, trying to get her finger to move. Just enough to depress the trigger, come  _ on! _

Hux's face heats, his jaw aches from his clenched teeth. He confiscates Rey's blaster, wishing he might somehow apologise silently to her for this. 

She's not so stupid to believe he is doing this by choice. She would be trembling if she was not frozen into place. The giant creature steps closer and her pulse speeds with apprehension. Kylo’s gloved fingers tentatively reach, brushing over Rey's jawline, almost as if he's admiring a treasure. Rey narrows her eyes.

"Don't  _ touch _ me!" she hisses.

Armitage tries to stay numb, he tries not to react. Kylo lifts his fingers away as if he's a child only just having been told that a flame might burn. She struggles to breathe, anger at least makes it easier. Armitage clears his throat, stepping forward. A feeble attempt to distract Kylo and bring his attention to Armitage instead.

"A better cell might suffice. I'll ensure she finds one.”

That black visor turns to him. Unconvinced. At Armitage's comment Rey only makes another angered sound.

"Frak you!" she huffs - her eyes flicking back to the mechanical sounding hulking form.

"You've failed once. Let's not take another risk."

Hux only ignores him.

"I'll get her binders." He adds.

She strains, Kylo’s presence is heavy, his hulking form dominates the corridor.

"That won't be necessary." Kylo's low voice rumbles. "I have her just fine."

Armitage is stony as Ben begins to carry her along, moving through the corridor.

"I can handle this!" Hux hisses, a little more desperately.

"Can you?" Kylo's voice mocks him. He turns his mask to him. "Why don't you play with your toys, General," Kylo adds bitterly. His weapon designs. "I have everything under control here." 

He continues to levitate her, as he moves along.

She wants to tell Armitage not to worry. She'll figure it out.

"Coward!" she manages, breath hitching - where is he taking her?!

Hux snarls like a wild fox after being scolded.

"This is my prisoner now, Ren!" He snaps, a barely concealed tremble of fury makes his bones shake. "And I won't sit by while you-"

A wave of Kylo's hand. 

She hears the collision.

Armitage! No!

Armitage is slammed back to the wall. A groan as his bones ache in protest. The scars of abuse on him were never allowed to fade.

Rey stares at that mask. Who is this man?! Why is he-? Don't they work  _ together _ ?!

"Stay down." Kylo tells him in something of a hiss. 

"What are you DOING?!" She cries with alarm.

He lifts his mask at the sound of her protest. Her heart beats so fast. But it's better than that awful creature staring at Armitage.

Armitage wishes he could tell her it doesn't matter. It's nothing new. He swallows, trying to straighten, to brush himself down.

"I'm taking the girl." Kylo tells him, flatly. His mind won't be changed.

Then he's striding down the corridor, turning a corner. Hux's fist rests on the wall.

***

Kylo takes her to a more secure cell.The first door comes open. He leads her in, closing it behind him. Then the second.

She tries to remember as much as she can. The paths they took. 

He procures a set of restraints that will isolate her hands. He clips in her limbs. Her hands in the mits, new straps across her chest. His fingers are almost delicate as he restrains her. He doesn't pull the straps too tight. 

"You're making a big mistake!" she hisses.

He hushes her. It sounds more like the hiss of a snake. 

"Don't be afraid." he whispers. Hux must have rattled her.

Her fists clench in the mits, leaning forward, teeth bared. His fingertips trace her cheek. Such warm… freckled skin. So full of light… and life. She snaps her teeth, as if to bite him.

"Just breathe,” he coos.

She does. She breathes shallowly and too fast. He hushes her once more, delicately pulling away.

"So. You eluded the General."

His jaw works behind the mask. 

"And I assume he did not obtain the map from you."

"There was no map!" she hisses. 

Not in her estimation at least.

He begins to prowl in front of her. Slow paces. Her eyes follow him. If she could just get her hands free! 

"But I saw it within you," he whispers. "You've seen it. I know it's in there."

"You saw nothing!" she growls, almost a desperate plea. He can't  _ see _ in her mind, surely! 

He comes to a pause. His hand lifting. He searches, dipping the tips of his fingers upon the surface of her memories.

"Stay calm," he soothes, trying to tame, to contain this creature. She thrashes her arms, howling her frustration. 

"Suck a blaster!" she shouts, trying to kick at him uselessly. How is she supposed to stay calm when he's going to torture her?!

He lowers his hand.

"It won't hurt." He promises softly. "Not if you let me in."

She sucks down a deep breath. She wouldn't! He's a monster!

"Never! It-It's  _ my _ head!"

"Believe me" he whispers, the modulator still twisting his voice, "that it gives me no pleasure to do this."

She laughs, a laugh that is both bitter and disbelieving.

He scowls behind the visor. His gloves lift to his mask, pulling it away from his face. 

She turns away - she doesn't want to see. She's seen this mask before in a nightmare, when she touched that saber! It's been chasing her, ever since.

He sets it down on a separate surface. She thinks he’s a monster, he intends to prove her wrong. Sure enough, she pauses in her struggles - her expression is one of confusion.

"But it's what I must do,” Kylo finishes, quietly. His fingertips are raised to her temple, and he begins to probe her mind once more.

She feels.... Feels his presence, an intrusion. She winces, trying to will him out! To stop. She makes a pained sound, a soft mewl of protest - her fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides.

"Please..."

He doesn't want to hurt her, but he has to find it. Her mind is…

"Get out!" She spits. 

A foreign empathy pools in his stomach. She's lonely. So is he. He sees a desert? Or an ocean? And... His eyes narrow. Armitage is here, in her head. What is he doing inside her thoughts?!

"You are  _ wrong _ if you feel for him."

That filth! Kylo shakes his head. He delves deeper, more focused on his task than before.

Wh-what's he seeing?! NO! These are  _ her _ thoughts!  _ Her _ mind! Her  _ memories _ ! It's all she has! 

She screams in pain - resisting him and trying to push against his presence! She tries to think of something... plain or repetitive: the marks on the wall. That's all she'll think of: endless white rows scratched into metal. Observe that! That's  _ all _ ! She tries to make it so - unknowing of how any of it is possible, how it works.

“That red haired child. He's a planet killer,” Kylo tries to convince her.

He frowns as she screams. Her resistance creates friction, building a wall with marks upon it. 

"I need the map." his voice is still soft. "Please don't resist," he searches over that wall. 

There has to be a place to slip through. She's so full of pain. He's fighting her... that wall. Every day of her life marked upon it, that she recalls... Will it be enough? She sucks in breath between her bared, clenched teeth. 

"He has... manipulated you..."

A sob from her lips and she shudders in her restraints. Get out! GET OUT! GET  _ OUT _ !!!!!!

The wall constricts around him. He tries to block or even to break through where before, he only searched. Kylo is the one who struggles now, his breaths shortening. His brows knit together. This is not possible. He presses harder but his pulse quickens. He feels smaller. 

She's in his mind! Somehow....! Gods! What is this cold and empty feeling!? It's loneliness - a reflection of her own, cut deep.

"You're not getting anything!" She insists, her head throbs, an ache.

She blinks, slowly and carefully - determined not to pass out again.

She pushes back as hard as she can - free falling.. . Her mind... is not her own.... A-and-!

Pained, broken and slow breathing. Regulated - fed. Built. A shadow cast over her form, her eyes widen. It's not a name she knows that sounds in her ears, but his memory. There's fear here.

_ Vader. _

His body tenses. His calm breaths grow hoarse. No! How did she-?! His eyes flare, -dangerous, only further determined. The map,  _ the map _ ! He growls softly, his heart beginning to thump at the cage of his chest. 

Not that dark haired child. N-not HIS mind! 

"You're  _ afraid _ !" She says, almost triumphantly. Surprised, that such a man might be in any way afraid of her, but it spurs her on.

"You're afraid. You'll never be as strong... As Darth Vader!" She feels something drip from her nose, a soft splatter on the durasteel at her feet - the only sound apart from their heavy breaths.

She's seen it. Seen inside  _ his _ mind! Somehow. A sharp inhale. Shock. He tears himself away from her, breaking their connection. She shudders - suddenly she's alone in her mind. She gasps, her pulse racing. She stares up at him, mortified and yet...

That name!

There's a faint tremor in his limbs. He says nothing, only moves away and collects his helmet. His heartbeat is too fast. He leaves the room, quickly.

She leans her head back, her eyes closing for a moment. She can still feel…

As though his hand itself had rested on her head. Now, as though it lingers there, cooling in the absence of his presence. She gulps and then shakes her head. Whatever that was... She has to make use of this time alone! She squirms in the restraints, trying to figure out how she might get free.

***

Hux, of course, has been watching and editing security footage. No evidence of him helping the girl. But he's seen where Kylo took her, and shortly makes his way there, only to see his dark form loom closer.

"The map?" Armitage questions, only for Kylo to slam him back at the wall, this time with his arm, rather than the force. A shaking breath. Armitage lowers his eyes.

"No." Kylo answers simply. 

He knocks Hux away, before storming off. Perhaps he will talk to the Supreme Leader. But Armitage only has this chance to free her. He moves in the direction of her cell.

***

She thinks she might have it. 

She remembers climbing very high in a vertically impacted destroyer. With new ropes, knots, and the pain of a dislocated shoulder. It was a hard lesson. But a useful one. 

If she could brace her arm, an- no... No, that won't work either. She grunts, working her hands - the mits only make it worse on her already sore wrists. She yells - kicking her legs, even the knife stashed in her boot is useless to her! 

Frakking....! 

She tries to violently throw herself to the side but the device is well and truly solidly bolted to the floor.

Hux opens the doors, checking behind him at every turn. 

The doors are opening! She braces herself - if he's back... She- she'll... She'll destroy his mind! She's read- 

"Armitage!" Shock. It isn't safe for him to be here! 

He finds himself in the room with her, relieved that she doesn't seem too brutalised at least not on the outside. 

Still, that spot of blood from her nose indicates her mind has been forcefully and ruthlessly invaded. He releases her restraints quickly, once more, his deft fingertips working at the straps.

"I'm sorry."

He knows, of all people, how damaging Kylo’s torment of the mind can be. She stares at him - her arms are freed and she throws her arms around his shoulders. 

"We have to go!" She whispers, frantic.

Her arms around him is not a sensation he understands or is used to. He is so cold, so rigid, but he melts, under her touch, his eyes coming closed. She holds him tighter, for just a second before she releases him. 

He nods his response to her telling him they have to go, despite his true intentions being only to help her escape. He cannot commit further treason than this one act. He prays that she stays low after that, -that they'll never hear from her again.

He takes her wrists. He unhooks a pair of binders from his belt.

"I'm sorry." He repeats. 

She's likely sick and tired of this. 

"We have to make it look convincing..."

He's a more convincing captor, he thinks, than a hostage.

She helps to get her legs free and he's scooped her wrists together. He puts her hands into the binders and she chews her lip, lifting her eyes to his. 

He doesn't mean to come with her, she knows it!

"Armitage!" She whispers, her expression faltering. 

She can't. She can't! He'll be in danger! Kylo Ren is a monster! And she felt his contempt for Armitage.

"You can't stay! I think he saw!" She manages, cheeks heated with shame. "I didn't mean for it to happen. But, I think he saw. I’m sorry!"

He looks at her for a long moment. Kylo saw?

That... complicates things. At this moment, he might be talking to Snoke. Might speak of his empathy for the girl. He should stop this. His eyes squeeze shut. His fingertips massaging his brow. He-he'll see what happens. Sometimes risks have to be taken. 

"Walk with me,” He leads her from the cell. 

She does - it doesn't take a lot of acting for her to look scared. She is. And she’s worried. The blood from her nose, she supposes could only help it to look all the more convincing. Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. 

It's an uncomfortable place: not to know his own plan. His face is pale. Luckily the sight of Hux escorting a prisoner through Starkiller base is not so extraordinary.

"We can hide. I know how to live with nothing. Just get us out of here,” she pleads in a whisper.

Live with nothing? He makes a small breathless sound. He can't do this. Still, he leads her on, and through the quieter routes to get to the docking area. That aspect of the journey may have to be more secretive. Nothing more suspicious than escorting a single prisoner to a docking bay.

It gets colder the further they go: the slight glimpse of falling snow outside of windows.

She stares, wide eyed. They're not on a ship!

"Armitage?" the temperature is dropping.

He hushes her. 

"It's alright." 

He checks their path as they move along.

"It will be cold,” he adds, as they come to the next door.

She tries to imagine what it is that is falling from the sky. What it might feel like. She tucks in behind him, face lowered.

"Now you must walk behind me," he instructs. "And try and stay discreet." 

He opens the door, the snow is thick. Stormtroopers on guard. Hux only has to give them a look in order to be let through. The ground seems to shudder. He can hear X-wings. Then he sees the glow of fires and explosions. Her eyes widen. What is happening? Armitage's eyes are equally wide.

"The resistance," he assumes, speaking aloud.

He hurries now, guiding her through the snow. She thinks she hears.... Finn? She steps closer to the window - three figures racing towards the treeline.

"Armitage! Look!" another shuddering groan, the screech of rending metal.

"We could go with them!" she vaguely recognised their shapes!

Go with them? He shakes his head.

"I'll get you there." 

But he can do no more. He doesn't belong, not there! He runs with her, trying to catch them, the cold and wet soaking into her boots.

"Chewie!" she shouts, "Finn!"

She doesn't know if she can be heard, over the sounds of the engines and the explosions, of weapons firing.

He wants to shout, but his voice is too easily recognisable to his own troops, let alone a possibility of only driving the resistance further away. He curses. The planet itself is...

He shivers in the snow.

"We can g-get you to them another way,” he decides, shakily. 

She trips, sprawling in the snow, something under the blanket of white. She grunts, trying to get up - her wrists… 

He mutters a curse, trying to help her back to her feet, even with the quaking of the ground.

"Can you take these off?" she questions, lifting her arms. She looks around, calling again.

He removes her binders.

"Can you p-pilot a ship?" He asks her, hastily.

She supposedly flew that craft in Jakku, didn't she? 

"Yes!" she responds, a little breathlessly, teeth chattering.

That's all he needs. He shrouds her in his coat. There's so little time and so much chaos that he doubts he needs to be so secretive until the dust has cleared. He stumbles with her, back in the direction of the docking area.

She freezes. That feeling...

"Wait!"

Armitage has begun to move them back to the hangar. She stumbles back a few steps. That.... She takes off running - hearing that wretched sound.

Hux whips around. What is she DOING?!

"REY!" He gives chase, now behind her. 

Those weapons! Shouts. A howl… She breaks through the trees. The Falcon! And Kylo Ren- with Finn and chewie with a freshly fired bowcaster. 

It takes her some seconds to piece it together.

But they're seconds she doesn't have. She’s speechless. The Falcon's ramp is closing.

"W-wai-!" a hoarse call.

The blowback from the engines sends her to her knees - something glints in the fading burn back of the engines. Something dark in the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> The rating could change as they get older!
> 
> We have already a few splits in the plot where it could go and choosing is the hard part! <3 
> 
> If anyone is interested in reading more, please feel free to kudos/comment!


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